Iris Murdoch Day

July 15, 2015

Happy Birthday…


from a philosopher:

Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.

In philosophy if you aren’t moving at a snail’s pace you aren’t moving at all.

Philosophy! Empty thinking by ignorant conceited men who think they can digest without eating!

The cry of equality pulls everyone down.

Happiness is a matter of one’s most ordinary and everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self.

The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries.

Falling out of love is very enlightening. For a short while you see the world with new eyes.

We can only learn to love by loving.

IRIS MURDOCH – whose birthday we remember on this date.




.                               (thanx to )


June 25, 2015

I was well into my spinning

Out spontaneous routines,

Original material

for mostly me, I guess, I mean.

It was going her direction.

I try to make babies laugh ,too.

But she wasn’t  having it,

and at the same time she was having me, yet

She assumed

For some time, yet.


June 19, 2015


There’s been a unfocused fire

Before the rhododendron,

Like off a roadway, on a hot day,

A unfocused  fire

Blurring this entire English garden.

Bumble birds and humming bees,

Warm words tumbling, tumbling on great grass.

Late last night it wouldn’t cease;

The dream is in the English sun.

I took cream in my steaming , strong tea.

Virginia, Leonard Woolf  I could see

With her lot

Iris Murdoch & John I could see

With her lot

Barrie and Carroll

Knelt on all fours

For hours

Playful, cerebral  somehow.

I’m thinking,  As I burrow my brow

Rough for this pillow

I’ll settle, Right now, Near the shade of that willow

& succumb  to cats on a lawn

& three  secret facts of tea roses.




.                                (from 2009)

photo mine

the night fills book shelves

of newselves

ghosts ancient  go silent  as

you are daring to glare it down.

the night fills full boxes

of hoaxes

all honest, bold-faced hazy fascades

and full frontal epiphanies





(from 2009)


June 12, 2015

Ink can slip onto  and stain a page

I think it can permeate a world around

it that can see it then re-see it new

and adapt it to the stage.

The symbals clash, the lights rush up. Both astound

A staring crowd.  So start up yr. casual

stroll from the wings, not forgetting yr. casual



June 11, 2015

“Are your angels just children laughing  insane At the fools we are as men?  Go count me in.”
………           RYAN ADAMS –  from  “THE FOOLS WE ARE AS MEN”



I work hard/ To understand/

But then I don’t know much about it all/

Someone at my night job/

Was all about  this bible’s myth of Jacob/

One where he wrestles an Angel (or maybe More)/

I’m not sure why or what

transcending,  intended

glimmer  &  glow

One   was  to get  here

But I got puzzled  at the wrestle.

If there are angels,  I need them

To lead me to bed,

A warm  arm/wing  around me,

Mercifully,  off to our bed.


May 28, 2015

the creatures there  were at their creek

when they witnessed me  because of my moon

I was quiet enough on my path

but they looked up, then back down to their drinking

I was so lost they didn’t scatter

so lost,  the full moon only considered my prayers

I got turned around when the wind picked up

I can’t find my feet  or so far

my way back





(from 2009)


I must discuss

A dark circus is in town

A boy in a spin, and trees swing around

He drops, and the swing stops

New dewfrost falls, he’s lost

In all the bare trees


A heavy disguise

Could be of use here

So cover your eyes, please

Your lover’s indecent

And trying on lies

His heart’s denying hard here

It’s a fact;  Abstract lies


Squeezebox  hymns  seem

To squish by inbetween

Aligned  treebark

Lighted & Loudened by a fullmooncloud

Lions let free/  Dark

Circus tonight and if I might

Mix in that crowd

A heavy disguise could

Be of some use


May 21, 2015

I’m immersed in the miracle
of my sense
Poised on the pinnacle
of a fence

Razor-sharp and fast
I gotta outlast
a lotta likelihood.
& rays of cutting ice;
a slanting precipice
was wanting the place
I stood.




written when I was a kid

They say that at sea

Mal de mer

Is easier to bear

If you can lift your gaze,

Look, and lock in the horizon—

The distant   constant   transcedent   end.


I’m a man who  says “Land,too.”



.                     (from 09)